


Sharp-Dressed Men

by voodoochild



Category: Criminal Minds, Glee
Genre: Background Slash, Clothing, Crossover, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotch finds himself having to do some shopping in Lima, Ohio. Luckily, he's got local fashionista help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharp-Dressed Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [recrudescence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/recrudescence/gifts).



> Written for **recrudescence** for her Fandom Stocking. No spoilers for either show.

"Honey, that is so not your color."

The kid is standing behind the designer jeans rack of Nordstrom, arms crossed, foot tapping like he's got somewhere to be, and a grimace directed toward the green tie Aaron is holding up. He's been sending Aaron speculative looks for the past ten minutes and tapping away at his cell phone (which keeps playing some screechy showtune he's heard Garcia singing), and he can't be older than eighteen.

Aaron looks at the tie in his hand. "Oh, it's not - I'm buying it for a friend."

The kid raises an eyebrow. "Really good friend or really bad friend?"

"Good. Does it matter?" Aaron asks, a little taken aback at how forthright the kid's being.

"Good friend means he might forgive you for buying him such a crappy tie. Bad friend means you don't care what he thinks. Since this is apparently someone you want to speak to you again, I don't know if you want to go with the Cole. They're expensive, and that's a good sign, but unless your friend's got cheekbones like Madonna, the width is all wrong." He slides the cell phone in his pocket and walks around the stacks of jeans, stopping beside Aaron to bypass the Kenneth Cole collection in favor of pointing one finger at the Brioni selection. "Does this friend have better fashion sense than you do? Because if he does, you can't go wrong with Brioni."

"Actually, he does. It helps that he's had many publicists who taught him how to dress, but yes, he's better at this than I am."

The kid grins, flicking the spinning rack around. "Then it's good I decided to extend my expertise to a man in need. I'm Kurt, by the way."

"Hotch," Aaron says. He tries not to make a habit of letting anyone under the age of twenty-one use his given name. "Isn't it past your curfew?"

"Uh, not on a Friday night. Got two hours before I have to be home, and it's only a five-minute drive. Aren't you a little straight to be shopping for your friend-with-good-fashion-sense?"

If it were anyone but a teenaged kid, Aaron might brush them off, but the kid's perceptive and hasn't been wrong so far. And while he isn't going to say anything, he suspects that he, with his current whatever-this-is with Dave, is actually the less-straight of the two of them.

"It's my fault he's out one of his favorite ties, and he didn't pack a second tie. I figured the least I could do was replace it."

It's the Mid-west, he swears to God. Every time they get anywhere west of the Mississippi and east of the Rockies, something weird has to happen. They were only supposed to be in Lima long enough to interview an ex-D.A., but the SUV had spontaneously started to overheat. Dave got engine grease all over himself trying to futz around under the hood, and Aaron had finally just radioed the nearest state trooper for a lift and a rental car.

Kurt taps a finger against his lips and studies Aaron. "Give me an idea of what we're working with. Taller or shorter than you?"

"Shorter."

"A lot shorter or a little shorter?"

"About an inch shorter."

"What color hair and eyes?"

"Black hair, brown eyes."

"Pale and WASPy like you or darker coloring?"

"WASPy?"

"Please, that accent screams 'my ancestors came over on the Mayflower, may I get you a cup of chai?'."

Aaron has to laugh - Kurt's analysis is irreverent, but not incorrect. He _is_ old Virginia money. "My friend's Italian. And wears a lot of black."

"Hmmm, that's easy to work with, let's see if they've got . . . got it! What do you think of this one?" Kurt's pulled out a burgundy and charcoal-grey tie, and holds it up. "Diagonal pinstripes never go out of style, and you don't want a solid tie with a black suit."

Aaron looks down at his solid red tie, and back up at Kurt. "I'll keep that in mind."

Kurt offers him a bright smile, and hands him the tie. "There may be hope for you yet, o WASPy one. Now, let's talk coordinating colors, because you're hurting everyone's eyes with that blue-shirt-red-tie-white-collar-and-cuffs deal."

Aaron is suddenly reminded why he _hates_ shopping.


End file.
